


Foreigner Belt

by Kaeos (Tennyo)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Timeline, Case Fic, Gen, Human Castiel, SPN Coldest Hits, Sam's fine, Season 9, also featuring Kevin briefly, aqua teen hunger force - Freeform, sort of a crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 05:12:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7209107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tennyo/pseuds/Kaeos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Strange deaths in New Jersey lead the boys on a chase for one of their weirdest cases yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foreigner Belt

**Author's Note:**

> Triple Cross prompts:  
> Object: guitar (sort of)  
> Characters: Sam, Dean, Cas  
> Fandom: musical or boyband? (really stretching to fit that one)

In the bunker at a table in the library, Sam stretched in his wooden chair. He’d been looking through old Men of Letters files for hours. Kevin stayed hunched over the angel tablet, trying to find a way to undo the Fall. Sam stood up and he felt his back pop.

“Hey Kevin, you hungry?”

No answer. Sam went over to the kid and nudged his shoulder. “Hey.”

Kevin looked up at him, eyes bloodshot, with heavy smudged circles. Poor kid was exhausted.

“Take a break with me,” said Sam, with a nod towards the doorway. “Get some food in us, then we can come back and work.”

With a heavy sigh, Kevin put down his pen and rolled his head around before pushing up out of his chair. He followed Sam into the kitchen, where Cas was already glaring at two slices of bread and holding a butter knife. He payed them no heed as they walked in.

“Whatcha doing there, Cas?” asked Sam as he came around to the counter.

Having only been human for a few months, he still had his angelic mannerisms, and was looking at the bread like he was about to smite it. Turning to look at Sam, he said, “I’m making a sandwich.”

Both Sam and Kevin noticed there was nothing else out on the counter except a plate that held the two slices of bread.

“What kind of sandwich, Cas?” Kevin asked.

Cas continued to stare at the bread, but his grip on the knife loosened. “That’s the problem.” His head tilted. “Do I want peanut butter and jelly, and have a filling, sweet sandwich?” He turned to look at them. “Or do I want to use some of the sliced cheese and meat in the refrigerator, and make something savory?”

His eyebrows scrunched together as he glanced back at the bread. “I’m discovering that at times even small choices can be a burden.”

Sam smiled. “Why not just make both?” It seemed a simple enough solution.

Cas raised his eyebrows quizzically. “But I’m not hungry enough for two sandwiches.”

That got a snicker from Kevin, who quickly covered his mouth. While Cas was distracted, Sam schooled his own expression.

“Tell you what,” Sam said, “We were just coming in for lunch ourselves. Why don’t we make several different sandwiches and share them?”

The expression on Cas’ face relaxed just a bit. “As long as I’m not imposing. You should be able to eat whatever you—”

Kevin interjected, “It’s really okay, Cas. I’ll eat whatever.”

All three of them prepared their meals, with Sam slicing tomatoes and tearing lettuce, and Kevin helping layer the sandwiches. Cas meticulously spread peanut butter and jelly on bread. When they finished, there was a stack of peanut butter and jelly cut into triangles, and another with rectangles of ham and cheese with lettuce and tomato.

While they ate, they heard the entry door slam shut, and then Dean’s heavy boots clomping down the stairs. When he called out, Sam directed him to the kitchen. Dean came in with a paper bag under one arm and a folded newspaper in the other.

“Hey guys, I— Ooh, sandwiches.” He set the bag on the counter and reached for one of the PB&Js. Taking a bite, he threw himself into a chair. The others sat stunned, and watched him practically inhale the sandwich. Dean didn’t even notice until he was reaching for one of the ham and cheese ones that they were staring at him, and he paused.

“What?”

Sam directed his eyes at the paper still in Dean’s other hand, gesturing at it with his head, and hoped his brother wasn’t a complete moron. Thankfully, after a brief deer-in-headlights look, Dean got the message and tossed the paper onto the table.

“I think I found us a case.”

Cas was the first to snatch the paper off the table, his eyes scanning it. “Is it angels?”

Dean raised an eyebrow as he picked up one of the ham and cheese. “Don’t think so?” He took a bite, and talked while he chewed, turning to Sam. “But it’s really weird, definitely our thing. This guy dies, and when they open him up, his heart is literally a rock.”

Sam finished his sandwich and said, “I’ll go get the laptop.”

Cas placed the paper on the table and took his plate to the sink. He took long enough to wash and dry it that Dean noticed. With another PB&J in hand, Dean leaned against the counter.

“So… what’s up, dude?”

Cas sighed and looked at him sideways. “Nothing’s up, Dean.”

He turned away, but the slumped shoulders told Dean otherwise, so he grabbed Cas’ arm and turned him back around. “No, it’s something, and I wanna hear it.”

Cas’ expressions were so much easier to read since he turned human, and Dean wanted to make sure the guy was alright. Cas looked down and to the side, curling in on himself to look smaller. And that just made Dean feel guilty. Because it was Dean’s fault that Cas lived homeless for almost a month as a brand new human. Dean refused to leave Sam alone until he knew he was gonna be OK after the trials. Then, he had to track Cas down, and he finally found the guy living in a homeless shelter. At least he wasn’t living on the streets. Ever since then, Dean had kind of made Cas his responsibility, and hated to see him curl up like that.

“C’mon, man. Talk to me.” Kevin had wandered off somewhere along the way, so in an attempt to get Cas to open up more, Dean pulled up a stool for Cas and sat in one opposite.

After Cas sat at the table and picked at the cuticle of a thumb for a bit, he finally spoke, not looking up. “So you and Sam will be… going to investigate?”

“Well, yeah. If what I read checks out with Sam. What’s all this about?”

Frowning, Cas hesitated, then said, “What use am I here, Dean? I can’t help with the tablet. You won’t let me go on hunts…”

“Because you’re in training, Cas. You just turned human what, four months ago? You gotta give it time.”

Cas clenched his jaw and stared at the wall. Dean sighed and wiped a hand down his face. “Look, you’re not completely useless. You can still translate better than anyone else, tablets aside. And you've helped us sort through most of the crap in this place, helped figure out what’s dangerous and what isn’t. Eventually, you’ll be able to go out on hunts, too.”

He could see Cas’ shoulders relax a bit, and that was a good sign. “Hey, even Sam and I haven’t gone hunting since the angels fell. He needed to heal up, and I know better than to go it alone anymore.”

With a pat on Cas’ shoulder, he added, “Besides, someone has to make sure Kevin eats.”

That got a soft chuckle from Cas just as Sam came back in with his laptop in hand.

“So get this, turns out that the heart thing, the guy didn’t even have a scratch on him. So there’s no way someone just swapped out his heart for a rock. Also, the week before, same town, a college professor spontaneously went blind.” He looked up at Dean and Cas. “So something’s going on there.”

Dean leaned back and scratched his neck. “You thinking witch?”

“Maybe. You ever see anything like this before, Cas?”

“Not for a couple millennia. But considering it was usually angels…”

“Right.” Dean sat forward, hands on his thighs. “I’ll go pack. Sammy, you and Cas see if you can find anything else about this.”

* * *

 

A couple hours later, Dean was driving towards New Jersey with Sam and Cas. He wasn’t happy. AC/DC blasted from the speakers, while Sam sat smugly in the passenger seat, and Cas played a game on Sam’s smartphone in the back. They needed to get him a new phone of his own, but since none of them had really left the Bunker for anything more than supply runs since Cas came back, it hadn’t really been a priority.

The drive to New Jersey was a full day’s drive nonstop, so they decided to rest just outside of Indianapolis. It was getting harder every year to find a place that’s easy to check into, so they sent Cas in to get them a room with two beds and a pull-out. He had a clean I.D. and except for the whole God bit, his face wasn’t on the Most Wanted list. While Cas was getting their room, Dean turned to Sam.

“You just had to bring him along, didn’t you?”

“What? He needs to get out now and again, too. How do you expect him to learn to interact with other people if we’re the only ones he has contact with?”

Dean pouted in his seat, “We take him shopping.”

“Seriously? Walmart once a week is not social interaction, Dean.”

By the time Cas came back with their room key, the brothers were studiously ignoring each other. During dinner at a small local restaurant, he tried to engage them in conversation, but the heavy air between the brothers soon had the former angel falling silent as well. When it was time to sleep, Sam offered Cas the bed, but he refused, saying that the pull-out was fine, and Sam would need to be rested to take turns driving tomorrow.

After breakfast and copious amounts of coffee the next morning, Dean was less grumpy and the silence was broken. During the rest of the trip, they took turns picking music, and even joked around a little. By the time they got into Seattle*, New Jersey, it was already late so they just got a room and settled in for the evening. Sam discovered that another body had been found, and this time the victim was a middle-aged man who had a heart attack while running.

“How’s that our case, Sam?” Dean asked.

“Well, the report says he’d been running nonstop for over three hours, and witnesses say he was calling out for help, that he couldn’t stop. According to the report, even after he collapsed, his legs were still making the motions.”

“So we’re still thinking witches, then?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow, you and Cas can go to the morgue while I go look for hex bags and talk to the neighbors.”

The next day, Dean and Cas looked at the body of the man who ran himself to death. The Medical Examiner’s assistant said nothing showed up in his tox screen. They couldn't explain why he apparently couldn’t stop running, or why he started.

Sam started in the most recent victim’s neighborhood. The neighbors all said the man led a relatively sedentary lifestyle, and they had never seen him do more than roam around his own yard until the day of his heart attack. The man lived alone, so Sam sneaked into the house and searched it for signs of any kind of witchery. He came up empty handed.

The boys convened for lunch and compared notes. Nothing seemed to tie the victims together. Their neighborhoods weren’t adjacent. That afternoon, they went to visit the blind professor, Dr. Eric Tannenbaum, together.

He lived in a quiet suburban area, and it took some convincing, maybe some flirting on Dean’s part, for his caretaker to allow them access. They claimed to be reporters, interested in his story. He was seated in a recliner in his living room, a pair of large headphones around his neck. Sunglasses shielded his blank stare. Sam cleared his throat and introduced them.

“Doctor Tannenbaum, we’re with the Jersey Journal, and are wondering if you have the time to speak with us.”

“Got all the time in the world, son. Not sure why you’re bothering with me, though. Since when do physics professors that go blind warrant an article?”

Sam settled on the sofa next to the man, Dean sat in an armchair across from him, and Cas stood awkwardly with his hands in the pockets of his suit jacket. Dean glanced up at Cas, and gestured with his eyes to make him sit down. Cas ignored him. Sam turned back to the professor, focusing on their cover.

“Actually, we’re hoping to shed some light on the circumstances, to maybe discover if there were any environmental factors at play. We understand that the Physics department is housed in the same building as the Chemistry and Biology departments?”

The man frowned and pulled off his sunglasses, revealing the milky white glaze over his eyes. “If you’re gearing up for some kind of lawsuit, you can walk straight out the door.”

Cas spoke up, from where he was looking out the living room window. “That is not our intention, sir. we’re simply looking for answers.”

Sam and Dean looked at each other with surprised expressions, before Sam gave an ‘I told you so’ bitchface to his brother. Placated by Cas’ remark, the professor put his sunglasses back on.

“Our department is on the other side of the building, separate venting and everything, and none of the other departments have had anyone go blind, so I really don’t know where you’re going with this.”

It’s Dean’s turn to speak. “What we’re looking for is if there’s anyone who might have wanted to do this to you on purpose.”

And there it was, a quick twitch of the man’s cheek, his lip. “Not that I can think of,” he lied smoothly, “As far as I could tell, we all seemed to get along well.”

Dean glanced at Sam and kept pushing. “What about students? Perhaps someone who flunked one of your classes?”

The professor’s cheek twitched again, and he frowned. “I assure you,” his voice became firm as he stressed his next words, “this has _nothing_ to do with the _university_.”

The boys caught his change in tone, and glanced at each other. Sam asked, “Professor, if you say it has nothing to do with the school, does that mean you might know who —or what— might have caused this?”

* * *

 

No amount of prodding would get the professor to speak, so they left his house. They were in the local library, continuing their research, when Dean received a call from the M.E.’s office. A body that had just been brought in was frozen solid. Dean asked where the body was found, and they headed to the address.

They finally caught a break at the crime scene, because a neighbor saw the victim arguing with the mailman earlier that day. They rushed to the post office, and got the name of the postal worker: Dave Willis. Looking into Dave’s background, they discovered that his wife, Rita, had been recently admitted to a psychiatric facility after suffering a psychotic break. Back in the motel, Cas discovered that except for the professor and Willis’ wife Rita, all the others affected were on his delivery route.

It was almost time for the man to finish his route, so they rushed back to wait for him at the post office. When he saw them, he slapped on a strange and heavy-looking belt that appeared to have an enormous silver buckle in the shape of a guitar. Cas was the closest, so he pointed at him and yelled, “Dirty white boy!” This caused Cas to immediately drop down into the nearest patch of dirt, where he rolled around and grabbed big handfuls, rubbing it everywhere. In the confusion, Willis managed to get away.

Both Dean and Sam had to restrain Cas, who couldn’t explain his compulsion to cover himself in dirt. Dean complained about the upholstery as they wrangled Cas into the back seat of the Impala. The entire ride back to the motel was a litany of “I told you so” and “see what happens”.

Once back in their room, Dean designated Sam as the one to try to get Cas clean, or at least out of his dirty clothes. “It’s your fault he came along on this case, so you clean him up.”

With the sounds of Sam wrestling Cas in the bathroom, Dean began looking over everything they knew about the case so far. The biggest clue was the weird belt buckle, and what had been shouted that dropped Cas. He sketched out the buckle, and tried to remember as much about it as he could. It really did remind Dean of an electric guitar, and he could have sworn there was a letter on the front of it, Maybe an F?

Dean got a burst of inspiration, and grabbed Sam’s laptop. After a quick search, and checking all the victims, he called to his brother. “Sam, Sammy! I got something!”

Sam emerged from the bathroom disheveled, his shirt half torn off, long hair looking like he’d been through a wind tunnel. After bracing the bathroom door closed with a chair, he asked Dean what he’d found.

“They’re all Foreigner songs!”

“Right.” Sam swiped a hand through his hair, and it almost magically fell back into place. “How do you figure?”

Dean pointed to the first victim, “Heart Turns to Stone.” Then the blind professor, “Blinded by Science.”

He was practically gloating as he continued. “Runner guy? ‘Can’t Slow Down’. Popsicle? ‘Cold as Ice’. The mental wife? ‘Headgames’.” Dean nodded at the bathroom door, “And last but not least, ‘Dirty White Boy’. They’re all Foreigner songs.”

Sam sat on the edge of a bed, and tried to adjust his shirt. Unfortunately, the top two buttons had been ripped off. “So it’s some kind of spell that makes the songs literal?”

Shaking his head, Dean held up his sketch of the belt buckle. “I think we’ve found the weirdest cursed object in existence.”

“What are we gonna do about Cas?” asked Sam, “We can’t keep him locked in the bathroom while we go looking for Willis.”

Dean pursed his lips, then started digging through his duffle bag. “Go get Cas, tie him to a chair or whatever. I wanna try something.”

While they manhandled Cas into a chair and tied him down, Cas pleaded for them to just let him go, he only needed to go outside and find a nice mud puddle. It wouldn’t take long, he said, and he promised to stay out of their way. In any other situation Dean would laugh, but Cas and mind control was something that just wasn’t funny. Especially after what Naomi had done.

After they had Cas secure, Dean placed his headphones over Cas’ ears, and he plugged them into the laptop, where he had the song “Dirty White Boy” on YouTube ready to play. After the music began to play, they could see Cas relax in his restraints. When Sam gave Dean a questioning look, Dean explained.

“So, the song titles were all literal, yeah? But maybe the victims didn’t understand the context, so whatever makes the belt work used their assumptions.” He nodded at Cas, “Maybe after listening to the song, he won’t want to roll around in dirt any more?”

“You’re giving him cultural context, and the song is the reference, so he won’t take it literally.”

“That’s what I’m hoping.”

During the second playthrough, Cas slumped in his seat. They took off the headphones, and Cas glared at them, demanding to be untied so he could take a shower. After they loosened his bonds, he slouched into the bathroom, and slammed the door. Dean and Sam looked at each other, and then Sam grabbed his computer to look up they lyrics, to see what they’d have to deal with.

Cas took a shower that must have used up all the hot water, it took so long. He stepped out of the bathroom, naked and dripping wet, and headed straight for Dean’s duffle, where he grabbed a t-shirt and jeans, no underwear, before stomping back into the bathroom. Ten minutes later he emerged, hair slicked back and in Dean’s clothes. While pulling on a pair of Dean’s boots, Cas looked up at Dean and asked, “Where’d ya hide the smokes?”

Sam gave Dean a surprised and judgmental frown. “I thought you quit?”

“Yeah, so I maybe stress-smoke sometimes?” Dean fidgeted. “The last pack I bought was after finding Cas. How would I know he’d develop a taste for menthols because of a damn song? It’s not like I ever smoked in front of him!”

Sam continued eyeballing Dean with a disapproving look. Cas slapped his hands on his thighs, stood up, and asked, “Anyone else hungry?”

After a trip to Wendy’s where Dean and Cas both got double Baconators, they continued their research, and discovered that Dave’s wife Rita recently had an uncle pass away, and left her part of his estate. While they were pretty sure Willis wouldn’t be stupid enough to go home, they parked outside his house until late at night to make sure nobody was going to show up.

Cas groaned with boredom, and slouched well behind Sam and Dean as they broke into the house and started rooting through the guy’s stuff. In the garage, they found a box full of Foreigner LPs, and a cloth that was probably what the belt had been wrapped in.

It was Sam that asked the obvious question: “How does an item like this get created, anyway? And it’s way too modern.”

“Definitely the weirdest cursed object I’ve ever seen,” Dean mumbled as he flipped through the stack of LPs.

“Dean, tell me you’re not planning on taking those.”

While Sam gave a disapproving frown, Cas came over to the box and picked up one of the albums, flipping it over and reading the back.

“You know, they might have some sort of enchantment as well. It’s best to be safe and take them back to the bunker with us.” Cas looked up and gave Dean a smirk and a wink.

“Yeah, he’s got a point, Sam. You wouldn’t want anyone to get a hold of these if there’s something wrong with them, right?” Dean asked.

They don’t find anything else, so they headed back to the motel. Halfway there, Cas complained he needed to stop at a convenience store. Dean grumbled and stopped at the next gas station, where Cas disappeared inside for a few minutes. When he came out, he had a case of beer, and a bag full of what looked like snack food.

Sam snorted and turned to Dean. “He’s become more Dean than you are,” he snickered.

Dean was fine with the situation, since there was beer. Until Cas tried to light a cigarette in the back of the Impala.

* * *

 

The next morning, Cas woke up with a hangover. While he had down the swagger, he still had the same lack of tolerance for alcohol. Dean gloated until Sam threw an empty beer can at him. After a trip to a diner to get some greasy food and strong coffee, they headed out to try to find where their fugitive might have gone. Luckily, Dave wasn’t a very creative man. His car was spotted near an abandoned warehouse by late afternoon.

After placing Cas on lookout, Dean and Sam headed into the warehouse. It turned out to be an old postal processing center, and it wasn’t long before they located Dave in a back office. He saw them coming though, and took off, escaping through a back door. They followed in pursuit, and caught up to him just as he bumped into a random pedestrian coming around the corner.

Dave pointed at the fairly large man, yelled, “Headknocker!” and kept running. As Sam and Dean approached, the man, now showing aggression, focused on them. Dean distracted him while Sam put his long legs to use in chasing after Dave. Right about then, Cas showed up, blocking Dave’s escape.

Dave was shocked into pausing long enough for Sam to tackle him to the ground long enough to remove the belt. Meanwhile, Dean was getting choked in a headlock from the headknocker that Dave had activated. Slapping on the belt, Sam tried desperately to think of something that would stop his brother’s attacker.

“Open arms!” he shouted. Nothing happened.

Dean managed to slip his attacker’s grip long enough to choke out, “Dude, Foreigner, not Journey!” before getting drawn back into a scuffle with the large man affected by the belt.

Looking around, Sam took in the sight of Dean fighting for his life, and Cas pinning Dave to the ground. Cas. Wait, he’d just read Foreigner’s entire discography… wasn’t there something..?

“Uhh, ‘Angel tonight’!” Sam blurted, focusing on Castiel.

Even though the sun was still setting, Sam’s intent was clear. There was a crack of thunder, a bolt of blinding white lightning, and Castiel stood straight, shadowed wings spread out behind him. With a determined look, Cas rushed over to where the large man was giving Dean a pounding, and threw him into the wall, where he collapsed into unconsciousness.

While Castiel tended to Dean’s wounds, Sam noticed Dave was trying to sneak away unnoticed. “No hiding place,” Sam called out, and Dave looked around frantically before curling into himself in the middle of the pavement. Before he could get into any more trouble, Sam dragged Dave back to the Impala, and shoved him in the back seat before removing the belt and tossing it into the trunk.

They dropped Dave off at the police station before heading back to the motel. With the ugly, cheap-looking belt on the small table, they wondered how to get rid of the thing. Dean suggested keeping it, but Sam reminded him that there were victims still affected by the belt’s power.

“Yeah, but so is Cas!” Dean waved in the direction of the angel who sat on the end of the bed uncomfortably. “You gonna make him lose his angelic powers again?”

“Dean,” Sam groaned. “I know it’s great to have Cas as an angel again, but we can’t let this thing continue to do damage!”

Cas nodded before he stood up and stared down at the silvery plastic outline of a guitar that made up the belt buckle. “Sam’s right, Dean. We have no idea what prolonged exposure to the spell will do, and while this is albeit a very strange cursed object, I cannot take advantage of the powers it allows me while others suffer.” The crease of his brow and set of his jaw showed the conflicting feelings and resolution within the angel.

Frowning at the belt, Dean agreed. Later that night in a remote clearing, they burned the belt over a salted fire while chanting a spell. As soon as the thing was nothing more than a charred lump, Cas lost his angelic powers again. The next morning, they called Professor Tannenbaum to discover his eyesight had returned. They could only hope that the other survivors of the belt’s curse were returned to normal as well.

Cas was quiet as they packed up to leave, shoulders slumped and head low. Dean hummed in appreciation at the new records he’d acquired, but Sam elbowed him in the ribs as he brought his duffel bag to the trunk.

“What?” Dean pouted.

“I can’t believe you kept those, Dean.”

With a shrug, Dean tucked the crate of LPs out of the way. “Cas had a point, these could be cursed too.”

In spite of Dean’s attempt to lighten the mood, the trip back to the bunker was tense and quiet, with Castiel’s loss hanging over him like a blanket.

**Author's Note:**

> Haha, are you confused yet?  
> For those that don't know, the Foreigner Belt is from [Aqua Teen Hunger Force.](http://aqua-teen-hunger-force.wikia.com/wiki/Foreigner_belt)
> 
> *Seattle, NJ is the canonical home of the characters of ATHF. Don’t look at me like that.  
> Dave Willis: Co-creator of ATHF  
> Rita McGrath: voice actress in an episode of ATHF
> 
> This was written for the [June SPN Coldest Hits Challenge.](http://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/post/144852541565/june-posting-dates-15-18-june-june-rules)  
> I encourage you to PLEASE go read all the others (or not, you might be traumatized) and leave comments, thanks.  
> [You can find them here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/SPNColdestHits)
> 
> **For all you cheaters that kept me from winning last month, I got to post this fic anyway, the prompt gave me PLENTY of leeway. So BLEH.  
> ***PREPARE FOR RETRIBUTION BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA


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